“Science-fiction.  I do a lot of stories for the pulps,” Pierre told him. “Space-Trails, and Other Worlds, and Wonder-Stories; mags like that.  Most of it’s standardized formula-stuff; what’s known to the trade as space-operas.  My best stuff goes to Astonishing.  Parenthetically, you mustn’t judge any of these magazines by their names.  It seems to be a convention to use hyperbolic names for science-fiction magazines; a heritage from what might be called an earlier and ruder day.  What I do for Astonishing is really hard work, and I enjoy it.  I’m working now on one for them, based on J. W. Dunne’s time-theories, if you know what they are.”

“I think so,” Rand said.  “Polydimensional time, isn’t it?  Based on an effect Dunne observed and described—­dreams obviously related to some waking event, but preceding rather than following the event to which they are related.  I read Dunne’s Experiment with Time some years before the war, and once, when I had nothing better to do, I recorded dreams for about a month.  I got a few doubtful-to-fair examples, and two unmistakable Dunne-Effect dreams.  I never got anything that would help me pick a race-winner or spot a rise in the stock market, though.”

“Well, you know, there’s a case on record of a man who had a dream of hearing a radio narration of the English Derby of 1933, including the announcement that Hyperion had won, which he did,” Pierre said.  “The dream was six hours before the race, and tallied very closely with the phraseology used by the radio narrator.  Here.”  He picked up a copy of Tyrrell’s Science and Psychical Phenomena and leafed through it.

“Did this fellow cash in on it?” Rand asked.

“No.  He was a Quaker, and violently opposed to betting.  Here.”  He handed the book to Rand.  “Case Twelve.”

Rand sat down on the edge of the desk, and read the section indicated, about three pages in length.

“Well, I’ll be damned!” he said, as he finished.  The idea of anybody passing up a chance like that to enrich himself literally smote him to the vitals.  “I see the British Society for Psychical Research checked that case, and got verification from a couple of independent witnesses.  If the S.P.R. vouches for a story, it must be the McCoy; they’re the toughest-minded gang of confirmed skeptics anywhere in Christendom.  They take an attitude toward evidence that might be advantageously copied by most of the district attorneys I’ve met, the one in this county being no exception....  What’s this story you’re working on?”

“Oh, it’s based on Dunne’s precognition theories, plus a few ideas of my own, plus a theory of alternate lines of time-sequence for alternate probabilities,” Pierre said.  “See, here’s the situation ...”

Half an hour later, they were still arguing about a multidimensional universe when Rand remembered Dave Ritter, who should be at the Rosemont Inn by now.  He looked at his watch, saw that it was five forty-five, and inquired about a telephone.